THE LORD OF THE What was it again, Sam?
by FlamingShadow and BiggerThanJK
Summary: Comedy version of LOTR. Frodo is paranoid, Bilbo's a womaninzing drunk, you know how it is. WARNING! Contains swearing, drugs, etc.
1. Prologue

**THE LORD OF THE-"What was it again, Sam?" "The Lord of the Rings, Mr Frodo!"**

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**BiggerThanJK: Hey guys! This is my comedy version of The Lord of the Rings. Hope you like it. FlamingShadow doesn't like LOTR that much . . . she's more of an X-Men/Harry Potter fan . . .**

_FlamingShadow: Whoa, you have written a whole chapter by yourself ! I'm speechless. _

_D_ISCLAIMER

BTJK: Seeing as I'm the one writing this, I don't own Lord of the Rings. Can I just say that I don't promote swearing. It's scummy!

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**PROLOGUE: THE FAMOUS ONE RING**

_One ring to rule them all._

_One ring to find them._

_One ring to bring them-_

"What crap are you reading, Elrond?" demanded the Elven Lord, Gil-Galad.

"Oh, _The_ _Lord_-"

"Is it good?"

Elrond shrugged noncommittally. "It's OK. Got it from the library."

"Oh, right. Anyway you might want to dodge the blow coming towards you," Gil-Galad pointed out.

Elrond reacted quickly and dodged the blow coming towards him. He pushed the Orc to the ground and hit him over the head with his first edition copy of _The Lord of the Rings_.

"May I remind you, we're in the middle of a battle," added Gil-Galad.

"But it's gotta go back tomorrow," protested Elrond, pushing his long, black, girly hair from his sweaty brow. He pulled his sword out and shoved the battered book back inside his elegant robes, hacking the head off the next foolish Orc with surprising skill.

The battlefield echoed with the clash of weapons and screaming of Orcs breaking their nails in the slaughter. The huge fire-mountain towered high in the dark sky above the desperate armies. The Last Alliance of Men and Elves, fighting for freedom against –

Elrond glanced up, face ashen and dirty, but could not conceal his horror.

Elendil, King of Men, and his son, Isildur, gasped for breath, saw the dreaded Sauron march slowly towards them. He stood eight feet tall and was in a pink tutu for some unknown reason. He drew his massive mace back for the first harsh strike.

_Shit,_ Elrond thought as the mace swung towards him. _I'll never finish that book!_

Sauron was so mighty, the lead row of soldiers were launched high into the air and the rest shitted themselves.

Foolishly, the brave Elendil rushed forward. _As if he could do bugger all_, thought Gil-Galad sarcastically before his brain splattered before his eyes.

Sauron's mace threw Elendil aside. The wounded man gasped in pain, his body hurtling into hard, cruel stone, and his hand released the Sword That Had Not Yet Been Broken. It clattered on the ground and the sound rang out coldly.

Isildur ran forward and crouched by his father in shock, trying to deny his inevitable death. He didn't want his father do die. A shadow passed over him.

Sauron.

Isildur swallowed, looked at the imposing, evil figure dressed in black wearing a horrible pink tutu that had killed his father. _His fashion sense is crap_, Isildur thought. Something caught his attention. His father's sword!

He reached forward urgently and clasped the hilt. Sauron stepped down hard even as he pulled it out from underneath, breaking the metal. The Sword was Broken.

But then, Isildur decided he'd had enough.

The One Ruling Ring gleamed tauntingly on Sauron's gloved hand. Isildur shrieked in pain and cut the fingers from Sauron without any hesitation. There was a metallic cry, and Sauron disintegrated, his power lost. His various body parts thumped into the earth, followed by his heavy helmet and tutu. Isildur couldn't believe what he had done.

He had destroyed Sauron.

But men are easily led, and foolishly Isildur kept the Ring. He wore it round his neck to advertise this fact, but he was ambushed by Orcs in the forest later on. He felt the hard slap of water on his face as he fell into the clammy river, and the stabbing pain of arrows in his back. The Ring sunk to the depths.

For two thousand years, the Ring was forgotten. Until the grey creature Gollum found it, and that was when his lifelong obsession with anything gold began. He was obsessed. There was never anyone more obsessed. He was obsessed with gold. It corrupted him completely. The Ring was hoarded in the Misty Mountains . . .

"My preciosssss . . ."

. . . For Gollum's fascination.

For another five hundred years the lunacy continued, until the Ring finally decided enough was enough, and promptly manoeuvred itself as far away from Gollum as it could, considering it had no legs or brain.

But is great plans were ruined.

A certain womanising fat hobbit called Bilbo Baggins happened to stumble across it with incredible confusion.

"What's this?" he stammered, cradling the tiny golden object. "A ring . . ."

Gandalf clapped his hands sarcastically in praise. "Well done."

So the Ring stayed in Bilbo's possession with some annoyance. _I mean, what a twat!_ thought the Ring to itself. _Of everyone, I had to be discovered by a short person with hairy feet and even less of a brain than I have, which is saying something, cos I don't even have a brain._

_I will bide my time. I will return to Sauron. Sauron, my master. It's just a matter of when . . ._

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**Please review. I would appreciate it. Thanks!**


	2. Chapter 1

**THE LORD OF THE-"What was it again, Sam?" "The Lord of the Rings, Mr Frodo!"**

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**BiggerThanJK: This is the first chapter of my Lord of the Rings: Comedy Version. Hope you like it! Please read and review!**

_FlamingShadow: Gandalf, gotta love im!_

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**CHAPTER ONE: "SO THIS RING'S A BIT IMPORTANT, RIGHT?"**

Bilbo laughed the sort of laugh you would only expect to hear from the mentally challenged or morally wrong as he rubbed his podgy hands together in glee.

_I'm a genius_, thought the idiotic one. _Who would have thought it! I disappeared from my own birthday party! _

_With my help,_ thought the Ring with annoyance.

_And it's all down to you, _thought Bilbo.

The Ring experienced a feeling of dread.

The next thing it knew, it was thrown high in the air then caught again in Bilbo's sweaty palm, before being pushed back into the unpleasant depths of Bilbo's pocket. It was used to this kind of treatment by now, having put up with it for the past fifty years or so, but it still longed for the day when it could be free.

Bilbo waddled to the cupboard and pulled out three bottles of Vodka. Then he sat down and began to drink noisily. Bilbo was a self-confessed alcoholic. However, tonight was a cause for celebration. He was a hundred and eleven years old! And he could finally retire! And he was retiring to Rivendell, home of the Elf-Lord Elrond! Fantastic!

_God, he's deluded! _thought the Ring.

"God, you're deluded!" cried Gandalf, walking in through the front door uninvited. He was dressed in his usual outfit: grey robes and hat, with a long white beard. He carried a staff, though of course it was a walking stick to those not in the know. A thick cloud of smoke followed Gandalf wherever he went, because he permanently had a cigarette in his mouth.

"No I'm notsh. It'ssh you Gandalf," Bilbo slurred drunkenly. "Got any women with yoush?"

"No, I haven't," growled Gandalf, forgetting how low the ceiling was and smashing his head against the door frame.

Bilbo giggled childishly. "You're an idiotsh."

"You're drunk, and by God you should know better than to use the you-know-what in public!"

"The what?" asked Bilbo, finishing his first bottle.

"The you-know-what."

"I don't know what."

"No, the you-know what."

"I don't know anythingsh, Gandalf! Talk sense!"

_He's as thick as three ships' worth of extra thick planks smeared with something thick_, thought the Ring.

"You CAN'T get out the Ring on in public, you fool!" yelled Gandalf. "Don't you realize how dangerous that is? You could bring Sauron straight to our doorstep!"

_That's not a bad idea,_ mused the Ring.

"He's been rebuilt and is a giant eye atop a mile-high tower in the centre of Mordor! Do you ever tune into Sky News?"

"Can't sssshay I have," slurped Bilbo.

Gandalf huffed, puffed out a suffocating cloud of smoke, coughed violently and managed to get out his inhaler before he suffered an asthma attack. Then he put his cigarette back in his mouth with frustration. "His armies are swelling. He's breeding millions and millions of Orcs!"

_Even better,_ smirked the Ring.

"He wants the Ring back, and when you put it on, his eye is drawn straight to you! Straight to the Shire!"

"If you thinksh," began Bilbo, starting his third bottle, "that I give a toss about this place, which, I don't . . ."

"You damn well should," scolded Gandalf hoarsely. "The Shire's one of my main sources of profit."

Gandalf was a drug-dealer.

"Shhuttupsh! You can't tell me what to doosh!" Bilbo lurched upright and smashed the bottle on the table, pointing the jagged end at the old asthmatic smoking wizard.

"I know what's best! The Ring can't stay in the Shire. It must go to Rivendell."

"Well Ish ain't taking it," said Bilbo bluntly, lowering the bottle slightly.

"Look, it makes sense," said Gandalf desperately. "Give Rivendell the problem."

"You have a poinssh. I won't do itsh, though. Get, ur . . . ur him to do it."

"Frodo?" gasped Gandalf, and they both whirled round to where Frodo stood in the doorway. Gandalf bashed his head again and complained loudly. "That's perfect! Frodo can do it!"

Bilbo got up, put the bottle down, and staggered to his brown curly-haired nephew and patted his shoulder.

"Frodo, me lad, you couldn't do meh a favour, could yoosh?"

"As long as you haven't been talking about me," replied Frodo stiffly.

"There's a good hobbit. Look after thish for me." He pulled the Ring out from his pocket, put it in Frodo's hand, and ambled past him to the door.

"He's gone," said Gandalf.

"We could still go after him," said Frodo. "He's not past the front door yet."

"No, no, we can't catch up with him now." Gandalf burnt out his cigarette on Bilbo's expensive oaken table and sat down. The seat collapsed under him. Gandalf sat in the destruction and pulled out a cigar.

"Gandalf, why did Bilbo give me this crappy ring?"

_I'm not crappy_! thought the Ring. _I'm 24 Carat Gold._

"And where's he going?"

"In answer: 1) to pass the burden on, and 2) don't know. It could be to a hobbit-killing factory in the middle of a hobbit famine for all I care."

Frodo sort of crumpled up and fell on the floor whining.

"There, there, Frodo. Don't worry," said Gandalf, but he couldn't be arsed to get up. "It's not that bad. It's only the One Ruling Ring that has the power to enslave all the Free-Peoples of Middle-Earth. You'll only be pursued by countless hideous creatures. You could only die a gruesome painful death."

"What can I do?" Frodo howled in despair.

"Look, I think you're overreacting," said Gandalf calmly. "Just take it to Rivendell! Elrond will sort it out."

Frodo paused, bewildered. His amnesia had kicked in. "Hold on, what's happening again?"

Gandalf sighed. "You are in the possession of the item that could put the entire realm of Middle-Earth under Sauron's control."

Frodo absorbed Gandalf's words. "So the ring's a bit important, right?"

Gandalf would have despaired if he hadn't been high on Ecstasy at that particular moment. "Yes, it's a minor, trivial item, yes."

"You couldn't come with me?"

"Um, unfortunately I have to visit a very important customer any day now – Saruman the White. So no, I can't, but I can meet you at The Dead Pony Inn in Bree."

Frodo grinned. "OK. Can my friend Sam come with me?"

Gandalf coughed badly on the smoke. "If he must."

Sam walked through on cue.

Gandalf looked at him critically. "You're a bit fat, aren't you?"

His comment was ignored.

"Oh, Mr. Frodo, I would love to come with you," Sam said, smiling at Frodo.

"I love you Sam," said Frodo.

"I love you too," said Sam warmly.

Gandalf looked from Frodo to Sam and back again with a furrowed brow.

"Yeah, whatever. I'll be off. See you at The Dead Pony. Ta-rah!" Gandalf stumbled out, then stopped outside. He leant towards Sam. "Do you want some spliff?"

"No, he doesn't!" Frodo pushed Gandalf away with tears in his accusing eyes. "You've been talking about me, haven't you? Oh, I knew it! You hate me! You hate me! Just come out and say it!"

"He's crazy, and I'm the one on drugs," remarked Gandalf to Sam, then left in a trail of smoke.


	3. Chapter 2

**THE LORD OF THE-"What was it again, Sam?" "The Lord of the Rings, Mr Frodo!"**

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**BiggerThanJK: Heys guys I love your joke! You can review now! **

**Here's Chapter 2. Hope you like it! Read and review please . . . It's embarrassing**

DISCLAIMER: I don't own any songs. The artist/ recording company does.

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**CHAPTER TWO: AT THE DEAD PONY**

So Frodo and Sam set off.

"I swear everyone's talking about me," Frodo shivered as they walked through the corn fields with their cloaks swinging and the Ring getting frustrated.

_How much more do I have to take?_ groaned the Ring.

"No they're not, Mr. Frodo," Sam comforted his friend.

_Frodo's a twat! Why are you hiding the truth?_ screamed the Ring.

"Everyone is. They think I'm a twat," said Frodo painfully.

_They'd be right, too_, thought the Ring.

"Well, they're wrong Mr. Frodo. Don't pay attention to them."

_Frodo is paranoid!_ The Ring grumbled.

"Aren't you worried about the Ring, Mr Frodo?" Sam asked gently.

Frodo pulled a face. "The what?"

"The Ring, Mr Frodo!"

"I don't have a ring. What are you talking about Sam?!" shrieked Frodo in a mad state.

"The Ring we're taking to Rivendell!" cried Sam desperately.

Frodo stopped dead. "What Ring? Why are we going to Rivendell?"

Sam wanted to pull his golden wig off. "To burden Elrond Girly-Hair with it! The One Ring – oh, I can't be bothered to explain it all again."

Coping with Frodo's amnesia and paranoia was hard enough.

But then they ran into Merry and Pippin.

_God, more???_ The Ring thought.

"Hey Mary, hey Pippin," Sam greeted the hobbits.

"It's Merry, not Mary!" Merry corrected him indignantly.

"Look, we're in a rush," said Pippin. "Sorry to be rude, but-"

"What have you been talking about?" asked Frodo suspiciously. "Oh God you've been talking about me haven't you?! I can't take it anymore!"

"Quiet, Mr Frodo," scolded Sam. "But what is that you've got stuffed down your pants, just out of interest?"

"Rod Stewart and Bryan Adam CDs from HMV," replied Pippin cheerily.

"We stole 'em cos we had no money, and we were desperate," added Merry, as if his excuse justified his crime.

"See ya!" Pippin was in such a rush that he ran straight into Frodo, and all the Hobbits tumbled down a sudden sharp bank into the forest.

They lay there in complete silence, then Merry let out a pained scream.

"What? What is it? Have you broken something?" asked Pippin worriedly.

"I cracked the cover of _Greatest Hits_!" he wailed.

"Noooo!"

"It's not the end of the world," said Frodo.

"Yes it is," said Sam. "Sauron will enslave everyone and only YOU can stop him."

Frodo looked doubtful.

Pippin blew a raspberry at this. "Merry get a load of that! Frodo is a hero!"

"Shut up!" mumbled Frodo miserably. "Stop talking about me, I hate it!"

"Calm down. It's not like you've cracked the CD case of _Greatest Hits_. Rod's head and neck are separated," grumbled Merry.

They sat up and brushed the leaves off their dirty clothes. Frodo wandered onto the track, lonely and curious.

_Yes, that's right. Keep on the track_, thought the Ring evilly. _The Ring Wraiths are coming to find you . ._ .

Frodo frowned deeply and his heart started to beat as he got a terrible feeling. He'd forgotten what it was that was so terrible.

_The Ring Wraiths are coming . . ._

The terrible feeling was this, he remembered: he didn't have any bog roll.

A terrifying scream made him dive for cover with the other Hobbits.

"What? What is it?!" Sam asked.

"I don't know!" Frodo screamed. "JUST KEEP QUIET!"

"STOP SHOUTING!"

"I'M NOT SHOUTING!!"

They crouched in fear as a terrifying Shetland Pony cantered into view with a black-dressed Ring Wraith on its back.

_I'm over here, Master_, thought the Ring. _Towards the left . . ._

The wraith looked right.

_No, left you idiot!_

The wraith got off the Shetland and peered left over the tree root where the Hobbits had taken refuge.

But then another scream from a fellow wraith distracted it, and it returned to its Shetland and cantered off to join the Nine.

Frodo was a nervous wreck.

"Mr Frodo, let's get going," said Sam, and without knowing why Merry and Pippin followed too. . .

WELCOME TO

THE DEAD PONY

INN

"Mr Frodo, we're here," Sam said.

"I can see that, Sam!"

They pushed open the heavy door and staggered to the bar.

"What are you, drunk?" grinned the barman, Mr Butterbur.

Frodo gave him such a killing look he shut up instantly.

"Gandalf here?" inquired Frodo.

"No. Who are you anyway?"

"He's Frodo Baggins," said Pippin stupidly.

"Damn. Don't have any head phones," complained Merry.

"No, I'm not Frodo Baggins."

"But, Mr. Frodo-"

"Stop talking about me, Sam!" Frodo screeched. He turned to the tall barman. "My name is Rob Underhill."

"Knob Underhill."

"No, ROB Underhill."

"Sod Underhill. Got it, Sir."

"I give up," said Frodo, giving up.

"Hey, Frodo, you don't happen to have headphones on you, do you?" piped up Merrry.

"NO!" Frodo barked.

They ordered drinks and sat down in a quiet corner of the smokey pub. Merry and Pippin had managed to persuade Mr Butterbur to play their CDs and were singing and dancing on the tables, getting emotional, getting violent, throwing beer over themselves, and puking where they stood.

"Hate to see those guys drunk," said Sam.

_Everything I do_

_You know it's true_

_I do it for you…_

"I hate this song," said Sam.

"I love it," said Merry, smashing a plate over his head for no logical reason.

Frodo had grown so small he was pretty much invisible. He was trembling and he was so wrapped up in his cloak only his frightened eyes were visible.

"Mr. Frodo, what's wrong?" Sam said suddenly, noting his condition.

_What's wrong with him?_ thought the Ring. _What's NOT wrong with him, more like! He's paranoid and has amnesia, he has to wear a pathetic wig, and he has to listen and watch Merry and Pippin make complete fools out of themselves. Is it any wonder he's so bad?_

" . . . See that man in the corner?"

"Yes."

"He's watching me," Frodo whimpered.

"I think you've pulled, Mr Frodo," grinned Sam. "He's not bad-looking. Tall, dark."

"He's hasn't taken his eyes off me," Frodo's voice was inaudible. Then he ran to the toilet.


	4. Chapter 3

**THE LORD OF THE-"What was it again, Sam?" "The Lord of the Rings, Mr Frodo!"**

**BiggerThanJK: Firstly thank-you VERY much to LegolasFan for your kind review. My only review. Yes, Legolas will make an appearance soon :)**

**Anyway here's Chappie 3. Read and review. It'd make my day. Sorry it's been so long but you know exams came up etc. Happy Xmas!

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**CHAPTER THREE**

Gandalf stumbled off his horse outside the terrifying tower of Orthanc. He marched up to Saruman's door and hammered it forcefully, shouting: "OPEN UP SARUMAN! SARUMAN!"

Saruman called: "THE DOOR'S AUTOMATIC!"

The doors didn't open.

"NO THEY'RE NOT. BATTERIES RAN OUT."

"Look," said Gandalf impatiently, puffing his cigar with relish, "I'm in a bit of a life or death situation here."

"Your life?" Saruman enquired from the other side of the door.

"No."

"Oh it's not that important then is it?"

"Well-"

Gandalf stepped back as Saruman pounded the door out with a sledge hammer. Emerging from the dust and wreckage the mighty wizard brushed down his robes and clicked his fingers. Immediately two humble Orcs scooted out from inside the building.

"Repair that door," he waved his hand arrogantly.

"Bloody hell wish I had service like that," Gandalf grumbled.

"Right where's my stuff?" Saruman demanded, shoving his hands on his pockets.

"Here you go mate. Don't scoff it all now what are you stupid?"

"No, I need a high."

"Talking of highs, how tall is your tower?" Gandalf waved his cigar about casually and his robes started to catch a light.

Saruman gazed upwards.

"Uh. I dunno. Ten thousand feet? Don't have a clue. It's pretty impressive, though, innit?"

"Hhm." Gandalf sniffed the air. "You smell something?"

Saruman covered his nose and fanned the air. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"No!" Gandalf denied instantly.

"You smell that?" Saruman said, jokes aside.

"No, what?"

"Your robes are on fire," said Saruman, gesturing with his hands. Gandalf noticed casually. The flames fanned up his cloak. Gandalf did a double-take a screamed.

"Hey didn't you ever listen to the firemen assembly at school? Stop, drop, and roll," he quoted, swinging his sledge hammer about.

"Proud to say I didn't'. OK where should I roll?"

"That patch of grass over there seems ideal."

Gandalf ran over to the patch of grass with such haste you would think his robes were on fire. He dropped and rolled furiously, screaming, but it only made the fire worse.

Saruman giggled and skipped to Gandalf, taking a watering can from a nearby Orc in blue wellies. He was on a high.

"Stay still," he sang, and sprayed the cool water over Gandalf. He was drenched.

"Come in mine where it's warm," said Saruman in abnormal kind behaviour. "I need to talk to you man-to-man."

The two wizards pushed their way through the Orcs rebuilding the door and into the dark, dank rooms of Saruman's lair where he would sit and ponder maliciously.

"Now, Gandalf," Saruman began as they took their leather seats, "We are beings of intelligence."

Gandalf paused in thought, then nodded in agreement, puffing on a cigarette. He stubbed it out on the couch and lit another.

"Sauron is coming, Gandalf. The One Ring calls to him. It's all over Sky News," Saruman sighed gravely. "Someone has it in their possession and they know they can destroy Sauron and his plans of domination."

Gandalf coughed violently at the news though he had Saruman believe it was his asthma. Oh shit, it was his asthma! He whipped out his inhaler and puffed until he was alright again.

"Oh Frodo knows alright – shit I mean someone knows alright," Gandalf hastily corrected himself.

"We must join forces with Sauron, Gandalf," stated Saruman dramatically.

Gandalf swallowed at this. "Sarrers, that's Ectasy talkin' to you. Dulling your mind. I mean, I know I'm not a saint but that is EVIL."

"It's logical, that's what it is mate," responded Saruman.

Gandalf jerked upright and headed to the door. They stayed shut.

"Told you batteries had run out," sneered Saruman. "And you're not leaving until you join our trio."

"Well I'm not. What's the attraction in being evil?" cried Gandalf desperately. "At least my profession is harmless…"

"My wrinkly arse it is!" Saruman declared. "You know what you do is immoral, wrong, illegal and disgusting. It can make people mental."

"Hah I can see that," said Gandalf.

"You're paying for that mate."

"Make me!"

"You're in jail!"

"B-b-b-b-"

Gandalf had to reach the hobbits in Bree – but he was held captive in the Tower of Orthanc. It was at times like this, he decided three hours later, he wish he could redo certain areas of his life. Like going anywhere near Orthanc.

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**Read and review! Thanks very much:)**


	5. Chapter 4

**THE LORD OF THE-"What was it again, Sam?" "The Lord of the Rings, Mr Frodo!"

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Sorry it's taken me so long to update, but I had exams and lots of revision and stuff. FlamingShadow is experiencing the same problem. Sorry it's been so late. Anyway, here we go. Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks:)

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**CHAPTER FOUR: MY NAME IS ARAGORN**

Frodo ran the tap and splashed his face so forcefully the majority of the water drenched the man behind him. He was dripping from head to toe.

Frodo jumped. "Shit it's you!" he yelped.

Aragorn threw his hood back dramatically and sprayed water over Sam, who had rushed in on seeing the man follow Frodo.

"No, Frodo, it's you," Aragorn answered.

"What?" said Frodo, confused.

"I've found you at last, though you're more of a wimp than I thought you'd be, what with your unnecessary screaming, fearful behaviour, and complete lack of common sense."

"What do you mean?" asked Frodo suspiciously.

"You've got your hand under the hot tap," said Aragorn.

"Shit!" Frodo pulled his smoking hand out from under the steaming water and plunged it beneath the cold tap.

"What are you doing in here, mister, and who are you?" Sam said as aggressively as he could.

"Shut it, fattie," said the man. "My name is Aragorn. I'm a friend of Gandalf's."

"How can we trust you?"

"He sent me this ecstasy bill, look - oh no, I'm not a drug addict! Nasty things, drugs. Dangerous, evil things. Anyway, at the bottom of this note, he scrawled, 'Take Frodo's ring to Rivendell, he's at _The Dead Pony'_ – so I came here as fast as I could on my tortoise."

"A what?" spluttered Frodo.

"He likes lettuce," said Aragorn.

"Who are you again?" said Frodo.

Merry and Pippin burst in and zoomed straight to the loos. Aragorn, Frodo and Sam heard their voices.

"Hold on, Merry, if we're going to be sick, why are we being polite and using the loo?"  
"I don't know, Pippin. Everyone else just goes where they are."  
"Let's run outside and retch over the sinks."

"Yeah, it'll be nice and messy."

The hobbits cackled and flew to the sink Frodo was at.

"No, you fools," he screamed, realizing their intentions. Frodo was covered in sick.

"Don't worry, Frodo, it's mostly alcohol. I drank on an empty stomach," Merry sort of apologized. Then he saw Aragorn.

"Do you like Bryan Adams, by any chance?"

"No I don't," said Aragorn.

"You should try him sometimes. Not try him like that, obviously, that's just wrong. I meant try him as in-"

"Shut up, Merry," Sam barked. "This man – he can take us to Rivendell where we can loose the burden of Frodo's ring."  
"My bum's perfectly fine," said Frodo, leaping to his bottom's defence.

"Nice and firm," said Sam.

"How do you know?" asked Aragorn. "And Frodo, for God's sake clean yourself up. You stink of Merry and Pippin's stomach contents."

Then a frightening neigh froze the conversation.

"Shit," said Aragorn. "It's the ring wraiths, and their Shetland ponies!"

"Shit!" said the four Hobbits together, panicking.

"What are we going to do?" screamed Frodo.

"To the tortoise!" Aragorn announced victoriously, pelting out the door to the pub. His cloak got caught in the handle and he was slung backwards through a window.

"This way!" he called, brushing off shards of glass from his face. The Hobbits tiptoed through the glass nervously and trailed Aragorn to the stables.

"Here he is," Aragorn proclaimed, wiping the blood from his face with his rippled cloak. "Torti."

Before them was a gigantic, crinkled tortoise with a thick shell-like plate armour. It was two metres long and half a metre high and on its toes were claws like blunt, black daggers.

"Hop on," encouraged Aragorn, sitting on the shell and giving the Hobbits a hadn up, through he

declined Frodo's. Aragorn took up the reins, pulled a whip from his boots, and shouted: "Yah!"

He beat the tortoise and kicked it, and gradually the tortoise made its way through the streets. Just as they thought they'd escaped the danger, the petrifying sound of hooves told them otherwise.

"Shit," said Aragorn. Then he whipped the ambling tortoise again. "Faster, you bastard, faster!"

The ponies were gaining. They were so close, Aragorn could see the heels of the ring wraiths scraping the ground.

"We're almost at the gates!" Sam cried.

The tortoise passed through them. Pippin wobbled and closed the gates behind them by standing on the tortoise's back. They whooped their victory and carried on to Rivendell at a triumphant two-miles-per-hour pace.

"The speed is incredible, is it not?" remarked Aragorn proudly.

"It'd be faster to walk," said Sam.

Aragorn took great offence. "Fine, get off and walk then, you self-righteous little bastard! All a man can do is offer his services and then people aren't even grateful enough to thank him."  
"Thank you, sir," Frodo whispered meekly.

"Go on, the lot of you, get off! I'll meet you up at that hill – Weathertop. Glad to see the back of you!"

"Sorry, sir," mumbled Frodo, and clambering off the tortoise, they walked briskly off and left Aragorn far behind on his tortoise.

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**I''ll try and update next Sunday. Thanks for reading:)**


	6. Chapter 5

**THE LORD OF THE-"What was it again, Sam?" "The Lord of the Rings, Mr Frodo!"

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Here's the next chapter. Enjoy :) I might not update for a while, I have exams. Any comments would be appreciated, cheers.

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**CHAPTER FIVE: DISASTER AT WEATHERTOP**

It was night.

The moon was up.

On Weathertop, sheltered by upright stones, Aragorn slept by his tortoise sucking his thumb contently. Sam, Merry and Pippin were roasting a decaying squirrel over a fire.

Frodo opened his eyes. He could smell something. Smoke. He could hear voices. He could see fire. Frodo kicked and struggled out of his sleeping bag in a frenzy and ran to the hobbits.

"Put it out, you fools, put it out!" he shouted frantically.

"Ah. Come now, Frodo, won't you join us for dinner?" asked Pippin.

"You idiots, the ring wraiths can see that from The Dead Pony!"

The Ring sniggered to itself evilly.

"Put it out!" Frodo cried.

"But-" began Sam.

Frodo threw his cloak onto the fire. The cloak caught the flames and it erupted in to a bonfire.

"Bollocks," said Merry, throwing down his knifed and fork.

There was another neigh.

"Not again," Pippin groaned in annoyance. Frodo and the other hobbits drew their swords and stood back to back.

They saw the Ring wraiths drift in and out of the shadows and then they came through and surrounded the Hobbits. Their swords pointed to their hearts.

"They're coming straight for us!" Merry, Pippin and Sam yelled, and they pushed Frodo in front like a human shield. Frodo gasped as the blade pieced his shoulder.

"Damn, missed his heart," muttered the wraith. "Can't see a bloody thing through this cloak."

Aragorn's blade skimmed over the wraith's head.

"Save us!" cried the Hobbits. Frodo fainted.

Aragorn picked up a stick from the ground and plunged it into the fire, then used his flaming weapon with surprising skill and talent to scare off the wraiths.

"And don't come back!" he yelled, shaking his fist.

The Hobbits knelt by Frodo prodding him.

"Wake him up," Sam ordered. Pippin threw water into Frodo's face. Merry talked through a loudspeaker. Aragorn slapped him four times for good measure.

"Look at that wound," Sam whispered. "Aragorn, can you do anything to it?"

"Nay," said Aragorn, peering at the inch deep cut. "I have to admit, anything beyond a bruise is too complicated for me."

"Let's get him to Rivendell – quickly!" Sam cried.

"Torti can be Frodo's stretcher. Saves us having to carry him," said Aragorn brightly. "Let's go!"


End file.
